Dancing in the Rain
by Zaya
Summary: Life's not about waiting for the storm to pass. It's about learning how to dance in the rain. -Featuring Yami and Hotaru-


**Redone, and with a new ending! Exciting, right? I'm still not satisfied with it, though, so… Meh. Enjoy anyways.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing except for some comics and some video games and my books and… yeah. That's about it. Sailor Moon and Yu-Gi-Oh! are not on that short list, sadly. So… no suing.**

_Dancing in the Rain_

Yami ran along the sidewalk, cursing himself for going out without an umbrella even though he knew thunderstorms were likely. His male pride hadn't been able to take it when Yugi had begun mothering him, thrusting an umbrella at him and fussing over his health. 'Maybe I'll listen to him next time,' he mused.

Across the street was a park. It wasn't too big, but it held a jungle gym, some swings, a few slides, and- thank god- a gazebo. He ran out into the street, in the midst of blaring horns and cursing drivers. He waved apologetically, and sprinted under to the shelter.

The rain was coming down harder now, and the ancient Pharaoh was leaking at the ears. Running a hand through his hair to try and get some of the water out, Yami spotted a girl standing next to the playground. She had on black shoes, black tights, a black mini-skirt, and black turtleneck. There was no white or bright colors to redeem the depressing nature of her outfit. The forlorn look in her eyes only amplified the misery she must have been feeling to stare up at the sky like that, violet eyes searching the heavens for something unknown.

"Hey, girl!" he called. She seemed not to hear him, so he tried again. "Hey! You!" This time she turned to him, her eyes sad and empty. Her face was almost white and contrasted with her obsidian hair, but not in any unpleasant way. It was more of a mysterious beauty than a sickly appearance. "You're going to get sick if you don't get out of the rain!" he said. The girl just directed her gaze back at to the growing storm.

Yami scowled. How could someone be so stupid? Grumbling to himself about the idiotic nature of Japanese young women, the teenager stalked over to her. Grabbing her wrist, he attempted to pull her to the gazebo. Surprisingly, she didn't move. He gave another tug. She held fast to her position.

"Leave me," she mumbled, never looking away from the bleak sky above.

"You're going to get sick," he said.

"Maybe then he'll care. Maybe he'll finally come out of his lab to see me." What was this girl babbling about? Yami, deciding she had completely lost it, shook her by the shoulders. Being the stubborn person he was, all of this resistance from her only made him more determined to drag her out of the rain.

"If I leave you out here, you'll be sick and it will be my fault!"

"Let me go!" she cried as he pulled her along. Yami's grasp was like iron against her fragile wrist. "You're hurting me!" she whimpered. He slackened his grip slightly; afraid he might break her wrist if he didn't.

The gazebo was not too far, and it was fairly easy to get her under the roof once he had put he rin motion."There, now sit and don't go back out," commanded Yami. Rubbing her wrist where Yami had gripped her, she sat down. "What were you doing?" he asked sitting down opposite of her.

"Why do you care?" she snapped. Her eyes narrowed considerably, but she just couldn't manage to pull off a menacing face. She looked more like an animal that knew it had been cornered and was preparing itself for the impending pain.

'… Brat,' he thought. "Can't I be a caring and compassionate citizen who wouldn't want to see anyone get sick or hurt?"

"No." By now, the damsel's eyes were even more terrified. Yami wondered just why she looked so frightened.

"You don't even know me so how can you say that?" he asked.

"Because, no one cares about me. I'm just a freak, a nobody. Even to my father I'm just an experiment!" Yami realized that the rain on her face earlier hadn't been rain at all. She'd been crying. Tears were flowing freely down her face again. She wiped them away, obviously trying to put up a strong front. A front that she didn't have in her arsenal.

"What's your name?"

"Hotaru," she mumbled.

"I'm Yami." Yami smiled at her and received a glare in return. He sighed. This was not going well.

Hotaru stood up, defiance in her stance, and stomped to the gazebo entrance. Before she could get away though, Yami stepped in front of her. "Sit," he ordered in a voice that must have been used when he had ruled over Egypt. There was nothing Hotaru could do but take her seat in the back of the gazebo, folding her hands in her lap and staring down at them. Her face was scrunched up with the effort of holding back tears.

Yami sat down next to the entrance of the gazebo so he could foil any future escape plans. The rain beat down on the gazebo, the only sound that managed to cut through the silence. A few times Yami attempted to ask her a question, but the tension gagged him before he could utter a sound.

To keep himself occupied, the pharaoh mused over her earlier question: Why did he care? Hotaru was just some random person he had seen. There was nothing special about her. She didn't possess striking drop-dead gorgeous beauty. She didn't seem interesting in any way, but for some strange unknown reason, Yami felt drawn to her. 'Snap out of it!' he thought, giving himself a mental slap. 'She's nothing special, and after the rain stops, you'll never see her again!' he reminded himself. Glancing over, he felt those thoughts fade away.

As Yami's internal battle raged on, Hotaru mumbled a muffled, "I'm sorry."

The small voice immediately pulled from his reverie. A puzzled expression crossed his face as he asked, "What for?"

"For being so rude to you. You were only trying to help. Thank-you." Hotaru had put her knees up and had her arms wrapped securely around them. Her face was buried so Yami couldn't see her.

"You're welcome," he said softly. "What were you crying about?" he questioned after a few moments.

Hotaru's shoulders tensed and Yami regretted asking the question. "My father… he sits in his lab all day with Kaolinite." Yami's eyes caught the tightening of her grip on her legs, her nails digging into her legs.

Hotaru's voice dropped to an almost whisper as she continued. "He never comes out. He's always busy and when I do go down to see him, he gets really angry and yells at me," she choked out. "I always wake up in a strange room in a strange outfit with people watching me and taking notes. Sometimes, my father will call me 'Messiah'. It confuses me and it hurts that every time I see him he either doesn't know who I am or is really angry." Hotaru sniffled. A tear had made its way past her defenses during her small speech, and it left a trail. It seemed to have broken a floodgate, as more tears followed, each coming faster than the last. "A-and I want him to b-be there, but ever since m-mom died, he has been like this. I d-don't k-know what to d-do." Violently, her shoulders were shaking with her sobs as she let it all out.

Yami felt a pang in his heart. He felt that this girl's father was insane, and it wasn't her fault. He watched her cry for a few minutes, not wanting to say something wrong and worsen it.

She finally calmed down enough that she wasn't at risk of passing out. Slowly, Yami stood up and walked over to Hotaru. He knelt down in front of her. "I'm sorry. I wish I could help."

Raising her head to look at him, Hotaru sniffled and looked down at him with red-rimmed eyes. The evidence of her episode was on her face, but her eyes were steady now. It was obvious that she knew how to hide it all away. The sobs had subsided, and she was able to speak without the gulping breaths and stuttering. "You didn't do anything, there's nothing for you to be sorry about. But thank-you anyway." She swiped at her eyes, removing the evidence.

Yami stood up and offered his hand to her with a smile. "Come on."

Hotaru looked at him warily, eyes still puffy. She didn't say anything, just sniffled and cocked her head curiously.

"Just stand up," he urged. Reluctantly, as if she were warring with her instincts, she took his hand and rose from her seat.

With his hand closed around hers, Yami pulled her close. He felt her tense against him then relax as he slowly began to sway an unheard song.

Hotaru let herself go along with his strange tactics. "Why are we dancing?" She kept her gaze on the floor, not wanting to let him see the pink that stained her face.

"I like dancing. I thought you might, too." He gave a simple shrug. Quietly, Yami hummed, the impromptu tune fitting the dance.

"I used to like dancing, but Father won't take me to class anymore so I gave it up," she said, seemingly to herself.

He didn't know how to respond, so didn't.

Rain was still falling, but it had let up some. Yami considered it for a moment, then decided. He broke apart, then pulled Hotaru out of the gazebo and back out into the rain. Then, he just stood there.

Their hands were still connected, but neither of them felt the least bit of romantic feeling attached. It was more of a comfort for Hotaru, something that she had not felt for a long time. A small smile could be seen on her face, and Yami felt a tinge of relief seeing it.

Not much time had passed before the downpour had slowed to a mist. Hotaru slid her hand from Yami's, clutching it in her other. Yami couldn't help but flex his fingers as he realized just how cold the girl's hand was.

"… Thank-you," she mumbled, her eyes on the ground. "You really helped make my day better." She smiled, but Yami could see that it wasn't the real one she had been wearing earlier. This was more forced. He decided he didn't like it. He responded only with a nod.

Just how long he had been there, Yami was not sure. One thing was for certain though: the time he had promised to be back by was long gone. He didn't regret stopping or pulling Hotaru out of the rain, but he would soon regret giving a time of return when Yugi would later chew him out for causing him unneeded grief.

Yami cleared his throat. "I need to go. I was supposed to be home a while ago and…" he trailed off.

"Oh! I'm sorry. It's my fault you're going to be late, isn't it?" She winced, as if waiting for him to reprimand her.

"No, of course it's not your fault. I'm always late anyways," he breezed. Which was not true, but he didn't want her to feel worse.

From her facial expression, he could tell she didn't believe him.

With and awkward wave, Yami turned and walked away.

He only turned around once, at the gate to the playground. When he did, he saw a fimilar sight: black tights, a black skirt, a black turtleneck, and dark eyes turned to the heavens. What was new to the scene was the small upturn of her lips, and a light in her eyes that hadn't been there before.

It was refreshing, in the same way that a summer storm washes away the sin spread over everything and brings a new life to the surface.

Yami looked away, turned around the gate and started on his way back to the game shop.

.:.I seldom end up where I wanted to go, but almost always end up where I need to be.:.

A year came and went with no significance. Yami did not see Hotaru again, nor did she cross his mind anymore. For a while he would walk by the park they had spent a rainy evening in and look around for her, but she was never there. After a while he stopped taking that way everyday. Eventually, he could walk past it without even glancing over for a quick check. Later, he could stare out at the pouring rain and not have her cross his mind.

Like now, as he walked through the small neighborhood with an umbrella spread out over his head, the only thing occupying his mind was which house belonged to Anzu. He couldn't remember if it was the one with the blue door or if it had a tire swing. His inability to differentiate between the two was frustrating him to the point that he wanted to kick something, but the only readily available object was a light pole, and he had no desire to break his toe. So he settled for a disgruntled sigh instead.

"Haruka-papa! Come out and play with me!" a small voice called out. Yami turned his head to look across the street at the little girl who was trying to pull someone out from the doorway of what Yami assumed to be their house.

The blonde's shoulders shook with what seemed to be a laugh, and her lips moved as she tried to tell the little girl something. Obviously, the child did not care as she let go of the arm she had been tugging on and ran out from under the porch.

Barely any time passed before her violet dress was completely soaked through and her shoes had been discarded somewhere. She splashed through every puddle she could find, jumping in them over and over until she had made the biggest splash she could manage before she would move on to a bigger one.

Yami only shook his head, smiling at the child's antics. When he turned back to judge the houses again, he felt a small hand grab onto his fingers and a small tug. Startled, he looked down at the grinning face of the child. "Come play with me, Nii-chan!" she urged, once again pulling on his hand as she gave another try at dragging him away. Violet eyes alight with the pure excitement of playing in the rain, she giggled. "It's fun!"

He nearly dropped his umbrella as the blond (man? Woman?) from earlier yelled, "Hotaru! Come back home, dinner's ready!" Yami looked up at the person, noting how their eyes had narrowed considerably as they scrutinized him. He shuddered involuntarily, thinking how unfortunate someone who should ever anger Haruka would be.

"Coming, Haruka-papa!" Hotaru quickly released Yami's hand, darting back to her own home. At the door, she was wrapped in a towel by a woman with aqua hair who seemed to be telling Haruka (who didn't appear to be listening in the least) off. Before the door slammed shut, the little girl turned and stood on her tip-toes as she waved to Yami. "Bye, Nii-chan! Maybe we can play together next time!" She and the two adults disappeared behind the door, leaving Yami to wave belatedly and then return to his search for Anzu's house.

**Quote by Douglas Adams**


End file.
